


Write My Story

by Lwwashere



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: AUTHOR AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Dialogue Heavy, Friendship, Ghosts, Help, How Do I Tag, Lies, No Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranormal, i havent decided yet, i think, implied crushes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lwwashere/pseuds/Lwwashere
Summary: Sally Face is thriving, his books taking the world by storm. He's the worlds most famous horror author, yet no one knows who he is, and no one knows his little secret. In a small town in the middle of nowhere he has a friend. A little girl, well in her 20's, but stuck for eternity as a 7 year old. She helps him write, he keeps her company.After a trip down to the basement on her behalf, everything suddenly seems to be happening at once. New friendships, new achivements... but also new lies.
Kudos: 12





	1. Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people! This is my first ever fanficton that I'm actually posting and I am very excited to see what people think of it!
> 
> A few things before you start reading. First of all, this fanfiction is not based on any ship. The only romance in this is things that are canon or heavily implied in canon in Sally Face. Second of all, this chapter mentions a birthday. This birthday is not canon, as this character does not have a canon birthday, so I gave them my birthday instead! That should hopefuly clear up any confusion. I also realized that AO3 isn't really made for my writing style, so it might look a little weird, but hopefully that won't be too much of an issue. Now, enjoy reading!

He pressed _SAVE_ and then turned his computer off, and found a blank screen staring back at him. He was equally surprised every time he saw his own reflection; he had changed over the years. Same prosthetic, different person.

He tucked the small pieces of blue hair that had escaped his messy bun behind his ear, pushed his already rolled up sleeves further up and looked back to the blank screen and made eye contact with himself. _Man, I need to cut my bangs._

He took the last sip of his coffee through a straw and then buckled the lower strap of his mask.

The familiar tone of an incoming call broke the moment.

“Hey Todd!” He stood up and started packing his stuff in his backpack.

“Hi Sal, how’s it going?” Todd’s voice said through the speakers of his phone.

”I’m packing up my stuff then I’m heading to the apartments!”

”Did you send the confirmation?”

”Yeah, sent them an email this morning.” He said with a sigh, ”Guess there’s no escaping it now.”

”It’ll go great Sal, trust me. You’ve had other interviews before, haven’t you?”

”There’s a difference between written interviews and a radio interview. A _live_ radio interview.”

In the background of the call he could hear someone shouting; “Just be yourself, Sally!”

“Ash, he can’t hear you!” Todd shouted back.

“Thanks for the advice, Ash” he giggled, “Tell her I said hi!”

“Nevermind, he heard you. He says thank you” 

“Told you so!” on the other side of the line there was a scramble and suddenly he heard Ash more clearly. “Hey Sal!”

“Ash, can I have my phone back?” he could hear Todd’s voice dripping with annoyance.

“Ugh, fine! See ya, Sal!” 

A smile had spread over his lips. Ash had become so much happier since she took the job as an art teacher for the small ones. She didn’t look like she loved children, considering she always wore a leather jacket and drove a motorcycle, and she probably didn’t know she did until she came back from work with a big smile on her lips and with new childish instincts, always ready to pull a prank.

His train of thought outran him as he was pulled back to reality.

“Sal, are you there?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Sal slung his backpack over his back. “I’m heading to apartments now, so talk to you later!”

“Sure, see you” the call went dead.

The warmth of the cafe was replaced by the chilly air of a day in early March. Shoving his hands further down in his warm pockets, he began to walk. He walked until he saw a building he’d visited one too many times, but never got tired of. A five story apartment complex, a lonely and boringly brown one. Littered with graffiti, some beautiful things, things that made one cackle a laugh, and others that were just there to vandalize. And a new one. A new one that a lot of people agreed with but that made Sal wrinkle his nose in disgust.

_That fucker will pay 5/15_

He starred for a bit longer than he should’ve. Chest feeling heavier every single second he held his sight on it. 2 months, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 2 months.

He sucked in a long breath, and pushed every trace of the thought into the back of his mind. _Focus on where you’re going, Fisher_ he told himself as he grabbed the fire escape and started climbing until he reached the top floor. 

**”NOTICE This floor in currently being renovated. For your safety, please make your way to the nearest exit.”**

_Give whoever put this sign up a reward._

He climbed in through the window and entered the hallway, avoiding random pieces of wood and nails and screws. He’d gotten used to the old, wet smell of the place, yet it always slapped him in the face. It seeped in through his mask, and it would linger in there until he took it off, that he had learnt from all his previous visits.

Though he would never admit it, he always felt like something was about creep up on him in that hallway, in the entire building even. When you don’t believe in the paranormal you can always tell yourself that ghosts aren’t real. Then the only worry is people or animals. However when you know ghosts exist, it adds to the lists of worries. That doesn’t mean that ghosts are out to hurt you, they are just people after all. Ghosts have worries too; fear, confusion, boredom. 

That’s what’s keeping him on his edge, even though he knew no one had died in that hallway. The unpredictability of it all.

Shaking his unease, he looked down the hallway. Random holes and ripped wallpapers prided the walls, the broken elevator in the middle of the four apartments didn’t have a button anymore.

He turned to the first apartment on his right; 504. One of the few apartments that still had their number plate left on the door. He opened the door to the empty apartment, stepped inside and went straight to the bathroom. He knocked twice before opening the door.

“Hey Megan” opening his backpack, he took a foldable seat pad made from foam, the ones people used for picnics out in the woods, and sat down cross legged on it.

Then she appeared in front of him. Flesh first, then skin, like watching something melt in reverse. A grey nightgown that she would never grown into covering her feet, purple locks surrounding her pale face, that was prided with a smile that almost reached her ears. Her cheery attitude could distract almost anyone from the fact that they were staring into the blank eyes of a creature that was so often portrayed as a killing machine in movies.

“Sally Face!” the little girl said with a voice that was full of anticipation. Sal could tell that she wanted to know what he had in store for her. She loved to help with his writing and was always excited to see if he had brought something to help pass the time.

“I have two options that you can choose from today, but we only have time for one!” he brought his backpack to his chest, ”I can read you the last chapter I wrote” he got out a bunch of papers and a notepad with a ballpoint pen, ”or you can help me write the next!”

”A new chapter already?” Megan let out a giggle, “You write fast, like a bike. No, a car!”

He laughed. “I guess I do! But I have the best assistant with me, that’s my secret!” Expressing emotions could be hard sometimes, but a wink always made it though his mask.

“Is that meee?” she grinned and her giggling just got worse by the second.

“Of course it is! You’re almost a professional at this point!”

The little girl gasped before jumping up and down and clapping her hands. “A _professional?_ ”

“Yes!” Though Sal suspected she didn’t quite know what professional meant, he was not about to pop her bubble. He opened his mouth to keep talking, but stopped dead in his tracks.

He had thought back to the first time he met Megan. He was exploring the different floors when he thought he heard the faint sound of crying. Being the curious guy he was, he went to investigate. He had traced it back to Megan’s bathroom, but that had been three years ago. Three years had passed but it still felt like yesterday. A yesterday where the day before had started to blur, as if his life had started when the plane landed. As if _she_ never existed, as if _she_ hadn’t made him the man he was today, as if _she_ wasn’t important. _Not now. Snap out of it, Megan is right in front of you. Say something, stop thinking! You’re only making it worse._

“Hey, Megan? Remember the first time we met?”

She furrowed her brows, “Hmm… Yes! Why?”

“That was three years ago, I just thought of that.”

Her eyebrows quickly went from furrowed to almost blending in with her hair. “Three years? That is such a long time! Does that mean its 1990 now?”

His face dropped. “Megan, the 90’s were 10 years ago…”

He braced himself for screaming, yet…

“10 years? That is so cool! I’m almost as old as mommy and daddy now!”

Relief washed over him. “Yeah, almost.” He couldn’t tell if time was different on the other side, or if her time perception was just weird since she a kid.

“What day is it now?”

Sal stopped to think for a second. “The 8th of March, 2004” he finally said.

Her face lit up.

“Hey! That’s my birthday!”

If she had seen the expression on his face she would have laughed. The one day, after three years of knowing each other, she asks for the date it’s her birthday.

"Oh, well happy birthday then, Megan! How old are you now?"

"I don't know!" she said excitedly.

Sal let out a laugh. "Well what year were you born?"

"1980!"

"Then I'll tell you happy 24th birthday, Megan!"

Her eyes widened, "I am a big girl now, Sally Face!"

He hadn't smiled this wide in a long time, seeing her so happy made his heart melt and his cheeks cramp. "Yes you are, Megan! Is there anything I can do for you on this special day?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t had a birthday in a long time!” she put her hand on her chin, mimicking a thinking pose.

“Well what did you do for your last birthday then?”

“Me and mommy went to a cafe, and she bought me a really big cupcake with lots of sprinkles on top! Oh, and she gave me a necklace with a cross on it! She said it would protect me from all the evil in the world. I wore that necklace all the time, it was my favorite!”

“I bet it was a beautiful necklace!” he said as a thought hit him. “Where is it now? I can go and get it for you if you want!”

“Really? Thank you Sally Face!” she exclaimed, but then she furrowed her eyebrows again, “But I lost it. I think me and mommy were visiting her friend on the 2nd floor, but then when we came back home it was gone. Mom looked through the entire apartment but couldn’t find it anywhere.”

“I’ll go look for it for you! It can be like a birthday present!”

“Thanks a million! You’re the best!” she clapped her hands.

He got up and started to pack up his things. “Anything for my big girl!”

Sal said goodbye and promised to be back as soon as he found the necklace, and if he didn’t find it he would return the day after. He climbed down the fire escape and stopped by the second floor. _If the necklace was there they would’ve found it already. Maybe I should take a different approach to this… there must be some sort of old lost and found here._

Sal continued down to the first floor. Apartments 103 and 104 had belonged to the owner of the building, Terrance Addison. Todd had told him about Terrance; he never left his room, spoke through the mailslot and had some sort of obsession with tea. He opened the door with the mailslot; 103.

The place was completely bare with the exception of a few broken tea cups on the floor. The carpet smelled like a swamp and very obviously had some sort of water damage. There was a slight trace of a beautiful wallpaper, before it had been littered with water stains and some other strange substances that the uninvited guest didn’t even want to guess what they were. Realizing that there was not much in there, he made his way to the other apartment.

104 was full of boxes and old furniture covered in sheets. Unlike 103, 104 had manage to not have too much water damage, a few boxes in the far corner of the room were a bit wet but otherwise the apartment was dry. Because it was dry though, most everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and spiderwebs. The boxes were all labeled, which made Sal’s job much easier. _Kitchen, bedroom, living room, clothes_ and so on. No box named _lost and found,_ it all seemed to be private things. Sal decided it was best not to snoop around too much and made his way out of the apartment.

_If I remember correctly there is a basement level in this complex…_ the elevator was long broken and the fire escape only went from the first to the fifth floor, there had to be another entrance. Exiting the building, he went around to the back. There was not much there, it was an open area with high grass and old beer bottles stuffed with cigarettes. The backwalls were just as littered with graffiti as the front, and just like the front of the complex, there was a door chained shut and locked with a padlock. That had to be the entrance to the basement. If he only had…

Aha! He dug out 2 bobby pins from the bun on his head. How he’d learned to pick locks he’d never tell anyone, but it did come in handy every now and then.

His blue hair was let loose and fell down to his shoulders. The bun had mostly been to keep his hair out of his face while writing to it didn't matter much anymore if it was up or down.

He eventually got the lock open and he let it fall to the ground together with the chain. A short stairway led down from the door to what seemed to be an old teenagers room. Posters filled the walls, but most of the furniture was gone and there were a bunch of boxes as if they were moving out. It was sad to see, had they only moved out a little earlier they would've survived the tragedy… 

Sal made a mental note to check the room out before leaving the complex. He wanted to look at all the posters, see what the person who lived there was interested in, see if they had any common interests. He didn’t have his Gear Boy with him, and therefore couldn’t really check for ghosts in the apartment, but if he returned another day he could always make a new friend.

The rest of the apartment was empty. There were rectangles of darker wallpaper prided with a nail at the top, where pictures or paintings must have hung. He’d never been there before, yet it felt like the millionth time he’d stepped foot in the apartment. Memories of leaving New Jersey, how empty the house had been. It was the last thing that reminded him of his mother. He would never allow himself to forget her. He didn’t allow himself to look away from the empty walls either, not until he barely could hold back the tears and his chest was aching. Not until then did he go out the front door, slightly sniffling.

It was a small corridor with a vending machine, a washing machine and a shelf in the far corner. The vending machine was empty but he guessed the washing machine was not, since Sal’s throat started itching when the strong smell of mold hit him. Avoiding breathing through his nose, he continued towards the shelf, there were a lot of things in the shelf so it was very plausible that a _lost and found_ could be found there. He scanned the shelf from top to bottom before he found what he was searching for. With a satisfied grin he took the box off of the shelf and placed it on the floor. Crouching down beside it, he dug in.

Old hats and single gloves, a keychain, a… a shoe? _How do you lose a shoe?_ An earring and… a necklace! A gold chain with a golden cross.

“Yes!” he got up and put the box back on the shelf, “This must be it!”

He stuffed the chain into his pocket and made his way back to the apartment he had come from. He hadn’t seen it when he walked out of the room earlier, but the room he’d came from had a sign that said “KEEP OUT” on it. He chuckled, there had definitely lived a teenager in that room.

As soon as he came in through the door, he started inspecting the walls. _ODENS BLOOD, the FEAR WITHIN, DEAD THINGS,_ Sal was familiar with them all but had never had any real interest for them. His eyes fell on a poster a bit farther away; _SANITYS FALL. Oh, now we’re talking!_ he thought as he hurried over to the poster like a child on a sugar rush. Beside the poster stood a two in one vinyl and cassette player. Sal had already deduced that the previous owner of this room had a good taste in music, and eagerly pressed play.

_Ritual_ by Sanitys Fall started blaring through the speakers. As the song started up, he backed away from the player, smirking like an idiot. As soon as the guitar kicked in, so did his headbanging. He banged his head and jumped to the beat, shaking his arms and shaking out all the energy he’d gotten when he’d gotten excited about his favorite band.

His headbanging didn’t last very long, as he usually didn’t get out much and therefore he wasn’t the most well trained guy in the world. He kept slightly dancing and swaying his head as he went on to examine the rest of the room. There was an easel leaning against the wall by the door, covered in paint, but no paintings or art supplies. There was one lonely paintbrush on the floor, but that was it. he bent down to pick it up and-

The music suddenly stopped. Sal whipped around and was met with two dark eyes, staring right at him.

“Who the fuck are you?”


	2. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than the first one but oh well, enjoy!
> 
> The fact that AO3 didn't wanna cooperate with my writing style annoyed me so much that I decided to go back and change it, but don't worry, I didn't change any of the actual content of the text!

“Megan, I am so sorry for not returning yesterday!" He sat down as she appeared in front of him, "I got sort of… distracted."

Megan just giggled, "What did you get distracted by?"

"I'll tell you in a second, but first…" he took the necklace out of his pocket, "Look what I found!"

"My necklace!" She put her hands on either side of her wide grin, “Where did you find it?”

“I found it in the lost and found box in the basement!” He got up from where he was sitting on the floor, “I’ll hang your necklace here for you, okay?” he said as he hung it on the towel holder beside the bathtub.

“Okay! Thank you Sally Face!”

He went back to his seat on the floor and clapped his hands, looking up at Megan. “Now, I think I owe you an explanation. I should’ve returned as soon as I found the necklace."

"But you got distracted!" she teased.

Sal let out a laugh, "Yeah, I did. It's a… long story?"

"I have time!"

"Well then! So when I went down to the basement…"

* * *

"Who the fuck are you?"

Sal just stared at the man in front of him. He was tall, about a head taller than Sal. He had a mole under his right eye and a small beard on his chin, his face was surrounded by a bunch of small strands of thick, brown hair that seemed to have escaped a loose braid that ran down his back. He wore an outwashed, black Sanitys Fall shirt and a thin camouflage jacket with rolled up sleeves over top. Sal could see the end of a tattoo sleeve under his jacket and his multiple bracelets. There was one thing that stood out about him though; he seemed… alive?

“Hello? What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

Sal finally found the words to say something, which he might have wished he'd hadn't, considering what actually came out of his mouth.

"Are you a ghost?"

The guy gave a blank stare in response. "Some weirdo with a mask is asking me if I'm a ghost… pinch me, I must be fucking dreaming."

"Well first of all, this is not your apartment, no one lives here anymore. It's abandoned. Second of all you don't have to believe in the paranormal, but there's no need to make fun of people who do. Third of all, it's not a mask, it's a prosthetic." Sal's heart was beating like crazy. Not only was he still kind of in shock after getting basically jumpscared by some random dude, but he for once said more than  _ It's a prosthetic.  _ He stood up for himself in a sense, which for some reason made his adrenaline pump.

"...prosthetic?"

"A prosthetic is like an artificial body part if you-" he began to explain, but was cut off.

"No, I know what a prosthetic is I'm just-" he took a deep breath and sighed out the air. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine, you're not the first."

The dark haired man raised his eyebrows as if to say  _ I can imagine _ , then he stood up a little straighter and put a more stern look on his face. "How did you get in here? Did you pick the lock?"

Sal stopped. It really sounded pretty bad when it came from someone else and not his own head. “Yeah… that does sound pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

“Wow, you don’t say.”

“But I didn’t break in to steel anything! I was just getting something for my friend!”

“Sounds like stealing to me.”

“No, it’s hers, she lost it a while back so I was just looking for a lost and found. She lives in 504!”

“You just said yourself that no one lives here! And especially not on the 5th floor, no one has lived there since the 80’s.”

“Well, she doesn’t technically  _ live  _ here, she died in 1987. I thought I made it pretty clear that I believe in ghosts?"

He raised his eyebrows and blinked twice, then shook his head and said: "Whatever, just… what are you doing here? Listening to music doesn't really feel like looking for a lost and found?"

“I already found it, I just wanted to have a look at all the posters before going back up to my friend.” the stranger opened his mouth to speak but Sal cut him off, “Totally worth it by the way! Sanitys Fall is such an awesome band. Speaking of which, I like your shirt”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“No! No I just wanted to say that, we can get back to topic right away!” he held up his hands and accidentally threw away the paintbrush he had been holding the whole time, “...I didn’t mean to do that.” He quickly picked it up again, as if throwing it had been littering.

The man let out a laugh, “It’s fine, it’s not like anyone’s gonna use it. And thanks, I got it at one of their concerts.”

“Dude no way! I always wanted to go to one of their concerts but I never got the chance to before they split up.”

“It was the best concert I’ve ever been to, I had chills the entire time and a headache for days afterwards from headbanging so much, might even have been a concussion.” He cracked a smile and Sal noticed a gap between his teeth. He always paid attention to details when he met new people. He had always been horrible at character description, and paying attention to the small details in people were his practice. The same thing applied to environments, trying to pick up on as much as possible so he could put it into his writing.

One thing was for sure though, the toothy smile spread like a yawn.

Sal chuckled, “Oh man, I’m so jealous! I could never afford to go to their concerts, I just blasted music in my room and probably gave both my mom and myself tinnitus.”

“Oh I gave myself tinnitus a long time ago” he laughed. “I had a deal with my mom that when I was alone in the apartment I could blast music as loud as I wanted, and I took advantage of that to the fullest.”

“I wish my mom was that chill. She never really left the house much so I never got to blast my music.”

“Bummer, sometimes you just need to be alone and blast some music.”

“Right? Since I moved here though I’ve blasted my music basically every time I’m home alone.”

“Where did you live before?”

“New Jersey.”

The man snorted. “You moved from Jersey to Nockfell? Talk about a downgrade.”

“No, I like it here! I live with some friends I met over the internet, of all places.”

Their conversation continued to get farther and farther away from the original topic. Favorite bands, where they grew up, how much high school had sucked for them both, most everything. Sal started to lose the feeling that he was talking to a stranger in an abandoned apartment building, it felt like they had known each other years ago and we’re having some sort of a reunion. He felt like he could tell the guy anything, and know how he would react; with a joke and an accepting look that showed he didn’t care about the strangeness of it all. Sal also got the feeling that the stranger in front of him had gained a sort of trust for him as well.

They ended up talking for what seemed like forever, and it was a long time Sal noticed, when he checked his watch.

“Oh shit, I have to get going! I promised to have dinner with my friends." He quickly started making his way past the brunette when he realized he still had the paintbrush in his hand, "Oh, right! Here's your paintbrush, not that you are in great need of it right now but uh, either way" he earned a laugh from the guy, "Sorry for leaving so abruptly, I'm kind of in a hurry! See you!"

And with that the made his way home.

* * *

As he always did, he had skipped all the swear words and things that could be deemed inappropriate for a seven year old. When he read her the things he’d written he had to leave out a bunch of things, which sometimes made it harder to have the story makes sense, but he’d rather have a challenge than cause her to have nightmares or start to cuss. He was a horror author after all, nightmares were usually his goal.

Megan didn’t seem to be mad at him at all, she just seemed to think it was funny that he almost accidentally stole a paintbrush.

“Thank you for giving me my necklace back, Sally Face! It was very nice of you and you are very nice.” she swayed a little back and forth, holding her hands together.

“Of course, Megan! It was the least I could do. And you are very nice as well!” 

As much as he tried to distract himself with the conversation they were having it was slowly fading and he just thought back to that one moment he hadn’t mentioned to Megan. It gnawed on his stomach and chest and he just felt heavier every time he thought about how he had already let someone down.

_ Just as he was heading out the door the sound of the strangers voice stopped him. _

_ “Hey, uh…” _

_ “Sal. My name is Sal.” _

_ “Right, Sal.” his face was suddenly filled with a sort of worry, as if he’d regretted telling someone a secret. “Could you maybe… not tell anyone about this?” he said slowly before spitting the rest out as if a bomb was going to go off in the next few seconds and he needed to have it said before, “I don’t know what kind of relationship- or not relationship maybe, but connection to this building and I just don’t want to be associated with it and I wasn’t even supposed to come here in the first place and-” _

_ “Hey, hey” Sal interrupted, “don’t worry about it. I won’t tell a living soul if you don’t want me to.” _

_ The man seemed to relax and he let out a sigh of relief. _

_ “Thank you, Sal.” _

_ “No problem” he smiled even though he wouldn’t be able to see it, then left. _

Technically he had only promised to not tell a living soul, and Megan wasn’t alive. He kept telling himself that but it didn’t made him feel any better.

“What was his name?” Megan’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He blinked a few times. “Huh?”

The little girl giggled, “I said what was his name, silly!”

His eyes widened. How could he be this stupid?

“I forgot to ask for his name!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of felt like this chapter was a little rushed but idk, I hope it was fine either way.
> 
> If you want, you can join my Sally Face discord server! Here's the link: https://discord.gg/fyXDz8X

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to update this as frequently as possible! If you want you can follow me on social media for updates (they will most likely take place on my instagram story).
> 
> My instagram and tiktok username is @NotTitanicCal


End file.
